


Crooked Smiles Fade

by chchchchcherrybomb



Series: The Desperate Type [9]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: F/M, Gen, Larry Murphy Tries, Larry was young and in love once, M/M, Sick Children, The Desperate Type universe, chickenpox, lots of flashbacks, moving away to college, some lowkey father/son bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 06:44:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11076180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chchchchcherrybomb/pseuds/chchchchcherrybomb
Summary: Larry had always been clueless with Connor. But he was trying. If Connor was trying, then Larry might as well try too.---The Desperate Type Universe, set during Epilogue Part 3.





	Crooked Smiles Fade

**Author's Note:**

> The Desperate Type Universe, set during Epilogue Part 3. Larry's POV, when he helps to move Evan into his dorm room.

 

 

This wasn’t easy for Larry, but he was doing his damnedest. Connor had mumbled over dinner two weeks back that the Hansens were thinking of renting a UHaul to move Evan into his new dorm room, and Larry opened his mouth before he had totally finished thinking. “That’s stupid,” Larry said. “We have a truck. Why don’t you and I just help move Evan into his dorm?”

Connor stared.

Zoe and Cynthia stared.

Nobody was moving, all of their forks down suddenly.

“Um…” Connor said, staring at his plate. “I can ask them…?”

Larry tried to smile. “I’ll give Heidi a call.”

Connor nodded, staring at his father like he suggested the family take up nude ping pong as a hobby.  

Larry was trying.

* * *

Larry was failing.

Cynthia had insisted on having Evan and Heidi over for dinner as a sort of send-off for Evan. She kept peppering them with questions between bites, carrying on and on about how exciting it must be for Evan.

Connor looked miserable throughout the meal.

Then again, Larry thought Connor generally looked pretty miserable. Some improvement all of that therapy had made. At least he hadn’t needed to be hospitalized in a few months.

Larry was trying to be understanding of Connor’s situation. He was. But he kept prickling at the idea that somehow, Heidi Hansen had bested Larry and Cynthia at parenting singlehandedly. She was sending her mentally ill kid off to college with a hefty scholarship and a stack of recommendations all while working two jobs and going back to school herself.

Meanwhile, Larry would count himself lucky if Connor didn’t flunk out of community college. He knew the kid was smart - he even managed to eek out a 4.0 for his last semester of high school, and a five on an AP Test, but Larry was pretty sure that once this Evan kid headed off to school, Connor would be back to his old habits of smoking up daily and skipping classes because he didn’t feel like going.

Which was sort of why Larry was surprised that Connor had started taking online classes over the summer. Which naturally Cynthia paid for without asking Larry about it. Apparently he’d aced all of those as well.

Larry was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for Connor to get back to being his moody self, the one with no ambition.

He was also still half hoping that Connor might get past this phase where he liked boys. It was… Larry knew gay people. He didn’t have any issues with gay people. He just. The idea of his son holding hands with another boy, kissing another boy… it was a lot for him. He was trying. But. When he had imagined having a son, all of those years ago, he hadn’t… he had something else in mind.

Of course, Larry knew how fucking hypocritical he was being. He knew he had no real problem with Zoe dating a girl. Maybe it was because she’d been a bit of a tomboy growing up, but Larry had seen Zoe coming.

He’d predicted Connor too, but for whatever reason he had stubbornly believed Connor would grow out of it.

And then he went and got that damn tattoo. Had it not been for Cynthia, Larry probably would have just viewed it as another ill advised bit of teenaged behavior… and then Cynthia told him that it was a tattoo of Evan’s favorite tree and.

First off, who had a favorite tree?

And second…

Well.

Like the tattoo, Larry realized that this whole…Connor being gay thing was likely permanent.

So here he was. Having dinner with Connor’s boyfriend’s family. Feeling envious of Heidi and how well adjusted Evan seemed by comparison.

“So, Evan tell me again what you’re majoring in?” Larry tried.

Evan smiled nervously. “I’m… uh,” he glanced quickly at Connor. “I’m majoring in Environmental Science.”

“Evan has worked as an apprentice park ranger at Ellison State Park for the last couple of years,” Heidi said, proudly, boasting.

Cynthia smiled. “I imagine that’s a fun job, Evan. Do you like working at the park?”

He nodded, smiling, and started talking about being able to take guests on nature walks. Larry sort of lost interest; he didn’t have much of an investment in local fauna. His eyes traveled over to Connor, who seemed to be hanging on Evan’s every word, his eyes alight with excitement.

Larry thought that was a look reserved for books.

He frowned a little.

Once the Hansens left following dinner, Larry knocked on Connor’s bedroom… doorframe. They still hadn’t replaced the door.

“Yeah?” Connor said, turning in his desk chair. Larry watched as his big smile sort of dissipated.

“I… talked to Evan’s mother about helping him to move into his dorm room.”

Connor nodded.

“She seems… relieved.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Connor said, moving a pen into place on his desk.

“Where… What about Evan’s dad?”

Connor shrugged. “His dad is in Colorado.”

“I know. You went to visit. I’m just surprised he’s not here for this.”

“He missed graduation too,” Connor said.

“Hm.” Larry sighed. “We should see about replacing your door.”

Connor raised a confused eyebrow. “Yeah, okay…”

* * *

 

Larry knocked on Connor’s doorframe that morning, expecting he would have to wake him. But he didn’t. Connor was sitting at his desk, frowning at what appeared to be his facebook page. “Morning.”

Connor startled. “Oh. Morning.”

“You’re up early.”

“Yeah…” Connor said, rubbing his eyes.

Larry wondered if he had slept at all. He’d heard Connor come home at about two in the morning, not bothering to be quiet. He supposed Connor was with Evan, doing something for Evan’s last night in town.

“I told Heidi we would be there by nine.”

“Alright.”

“Can I get you to lend a hand with the futon?” Larry said.

Connor nodded. Got up from his desk, closing his laptop. A new Mac. Graduation present. Cynthia’s idea. Connor was already dressed. Larry decided not to ask if Connor was really planning to wear all that black when they were moving. Connor was nearly nineteen. He could pick out his own clothes.

Larry watched, a little surprised, as Connor pulled up the sleeves of his hoodie.

He never wanted to think about the scars. He almost preferred that Connor kept them covered up.

“Right,” Connor said, nodding to himself, sticking his phone into his back pocket. He stood there for a minute. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Larry said. Suddenly realizing that he was a little bit grateful that Connor wouldn’t be leaving for college yet this year. The idea of his bedroom being empty sort of bothered Larry.

He and Connor loaded the futon easily, which was a relief. He didn’t really know how helpful Connor would be in this moving process. He’d never seen his son lift more than a book in his life.

The ride over to the Hansens’ was quiet. Connor was sort of chewing his lip. Larry kept wondering if he ought to say something. His kid was sad… he was obviously sad. But Larry was at a loss.

Once they pulled up, Connor darted from the car, hurrying to ring the doorbell before Larry had even finished backing the truck up. Larry didn’t miss the way that Connor hugged Heidi tightly. Or the way that his fingers seemed to immediately curl around Evan’s.

Larry doubted he would ever get used to that.

Heidi and Evan, thankfully, had everything packed up and loaded into the garage, so it was simple to load up the truck.

As Larry set a big plastic storage bin in the bed of the truck, he got a tap on his shoulder. “Um. Mr. Murphy?” Evan was standing there, smiling a little shyly. “I just wanted to say thank you so much for your help today. I know my mom really appreciates it. And. So do I.”

Larry nodded. “No problem.”

* * *

 

Larry and Connor ended up doing most of the heavy lifting. Larry was so surprised he didn’t even comment about the fact that if Connor needed to put his hair up, maybe he ought to just cut it off.

As Evan and his mom went back to grab more stuff from the truck, Connor and Larry bunked up the beds in the dorm room.

“Bunk beds, huh?” Larry said when they had finished.

Connor blinked a few times then his face turned bright red. “Dad, seriously? Can we not?”

So much for that attempt at bonding.

* * *

 

Heidi insisted on buying him a coffee before they headed back home. Larry wasn’t stupid. She knew this was her way of giving the boys a minute - one that Connor would certainly use smoking. But.

He accepted the coffee so that he didn’t appear to be rude.

“Thank you again for your help,” Heidi said, smiling at him.

“It’s no problem. Happy to help.”

“Is Connor getting excited to start classes?” Heidi asked him.

Larry shrugged. He honestly didn’t know. “I think he’s more disappointed about where he’s going.”

Heidi sighed. “I know it’s gonna be tough for the two of them, being apart like this. But I think they’ll figure it out. They’re smart.”

Larry nodded. He didn’t have anything meaningful to contribute.

“How…?” Larry started. Stopped. Took a sip of his latte. “How did you know Evan was…?”

Heidi blinked. “I mean. He told me.”

Larry must have looked confused.

“I knew he and Connor were spending a lot of time together, and… He just told me that thought that maybe he wasn’t straight, and not long after that he liked Connor.”

Larry nodded. “Technically speaking, Connor’s never told me.”

It was Heidi’s turn to look confused.

“I um. Saw the two of them kissing in Connor’s room at the end of the school year.”

Heidi smiled, nodding.

Larry didn’t know how to smile over that. Still.

“I’m sure it’s hard…” Heidi said. “I know he’s said that he’s a bit closer to his mom. With Evan, it’s just been me and him for the last… eleven years, almost. So.”

Larry nodded. “Yeah.”

“He’s had a rough time of it,” Heidi said. “But he’s a good kid. You and Cynthia did a good job with him.”

Larry stared at his coffee uncomfortably. He hadn’t done much of any job with Connor.

Eventually it was undeniably time to go. He and Heidi headed back to the dorm parking lot, where they met Connor and Evan after a little bit. Connor’s eyes looked red. Larry had sort of hoped that at the least he wouldn’t get high in front of Heidi.

Larry and Connor sort of stood back while Heidi and Evan said their tearful goodbyes. Connor was staring at his shoes, an old pair of Chucks that Larry was sure he’d told Connor to throw away years ago.

“Connor?” Larry tried, but then Heidi and Evan broke apart and Evan was turning to his son, pulling him into a tight hug.

Larry thought he saw Connor’s shoulders shake a little.

He chose to look away instead.

Once they parted, Connor climbed in the back seat of the truck, Heidi took the passenger seat, and they all took off, waving at Evan as he stood in the parking lot.

* * *

 

Connor made this horrifying, wet, strangled sound from the backseat.

Larry glanced in the rearview mirror to his his kid, his son, nearly nineteen, basically a man now, red faced and crying. Crying like Larry hadn’t seen in years.

Connor had been about ten when he decided to quit little league. He apparently talked it over with Cynthia and she just pulled him out of the league, no questions asked.

Larry, however, was not happy to discover this, especially not as he pulled up to what would have been the first game of the season he could make it to only to discover that his kid wasn’t on the field, the coach looking at Larry cluelessly saying that Connor had quit.

Larry had been pissed. He drove home, angry, and when he walked in to talk to Cynthia about it, the pair of them got into a screaming match.

“Cynthia, we already paid for the season! Why couldn’t you just tell him to tough it out for a few months?”

“He’s miserable, Larry! All of the other kids have been making fun of him because he hasn’t hit any runs all season.”

“Well he might if he ever practiced!”

“Well, exactly when is he meant to do that?” Cynthia had shouted. “You haven’t made it home before seven once this month! Am I supposed to take on baseball too, in addition to everything else? He doesn’t want to play Larry! You’re the only one who wants that.”

Larry had stormed outside, sitting in a chair on the back patio, drinking a beer and wondering just how he was somehow at fault for his son’s quitter attitude now.

“Dad?” Connor had just pulled up on his bike into the backyard. “You’re home early.”

“Left early for your ball game,” Larry said casually. “Except your mom tells me that you’ve quit.”

Connor’s face went white. “I… yeah.”

“What the hell did you do that for? Do you have any idea how much that league costs? Why didn’t you tell us not to sign you up this season?”

Connor burst into tears. “I did!” He said. “I said I didn’t want to play…”

“Don’t lie,Connor, you’re acting ridiculous.”

“Please… please don’t be mad. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t get the money back.”

“I…” Connor hiccuped. “Mom _said_ it was okay…”

“Well your mother and I have had a conversation about this. I want you to go to the next practice. Those fees aren’t refundable. You’re going to play the rest of the summer. And you and I are going to practice your swing. Quit crying.”

But Connor didn’t buck up like he was told. Instead he just cried harder. “Please… please  don’t make me.”

“Connor, you’re not a baby anymore. You can’t just throw a tantrum when you don’t want to do something. Knock it off and get it together. You’re going.”

“Everyone there hates me!”

“Quit being dramatic-”

“They do, they hate me, the other kids make fun of me…” Connor seemed to be unable to catch his breath. “Please. I’ll. I’ll clean my room every day for the next year, just please don’t make me-”

Larry just frowned. He didn’t have patience for these dramatics. “No, Connor, no. You’re going back.”

“But I-”

“This is not up for discussion.”

And Larry watched as Connor, sobbing, rushed into the house.

Eventually, Larry won the fight. Connor played out the rest of the season. He hit two home runs in the final game, but none of the other kids congratulated him after it was over.

Larry didn’t make him sign up the next year.

Larry looked at Connor now, in the rearview, for just a moment. Paralyzed. Considered pulling over the car, but knew he didn’t know what the hell to do.

But before Larry had even opened his mouth to speak,  to say something, anything, Heidi had pulled a paper bag from her purse and said in this voice that was obviously practiced but definitely soothing, “Connor, sweetheart, you’re okay. Here, take this, just breathe. Take this, Connor, honey, you’re okay,” before turning to Larry and saying in a low voice, “Could you please pull over?”

So Larry put on his turn signal and pulled over onto the shoulder, hitting his hazards. The moment the truck stopped, Heidi was out of her seat, pulling open the back door, pulling Connor out of the back by the hand, and he just fell out of the truck at her urging. She kept talking calmly, voice low, her arm going around him immediately, rubbing his back, saying, “You’re okay. It’s okay. It’s okay. Let it out, sweetie, you’re fine, you’re safe, you’re okay.”

Connor breathed into the bag, eyes bloodshot and teary and staring directly at Heidi as he did it, while she coached him through whatever the hell was happening, telling him to breathe slowly.

Larry got out of the car, walking around it, and stood there on the passenger side, helplessly watching as someone else took care of his son.

Connor was _his_ son.

Larry knew that he should be the one helping him through this, comforting him because no matter how old he got he was still Larry’s kid.

But Larry was at a loss. He always was with Connor.

“You’re doing great,” Heidi said to Connor. He had taken the bag away from his mouth, his breathing no longer ragged.

“I just-” He said, and then he kind of looked up at his father, and Larry watched as Connor’s mouth snapped closed.

Larry knew that was because of him. But he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t just get back into the car and wait it out. He might have, had this been six months ago, climbed back into the cab and yelled at Connor to get it together.

He knew it was wrong but…

He couldn’t do it now.

But he couldn’t help either. He was paralyzed.

Heidi pulled a small pack of tissues out of her purse and handed them to Connor, saying something quiet that Larry didn’t hear over the noise of the cars rushing by that made Connor’s mouth twitch into a small smile and a short, breathless laugh escaped him. He mopped his face up with the tissues, blew his nose, and didn’t flinch away as Heidi tucked a loose piece of hair behind his ear. “You’re alright,” she said, squeezing his shoulders.

Connor nodded, mumbled, “Thank you.”

Larry locked eyes with Heidi then, and he suspected she could read him like a book. He was certain his envy of how she knew instantly how to do this, how to help was written all over his face. She didn’t seem apologetic at all. In fact, Larry thought she might be sort of daring him to challenge her authority.

He supposed, all things considered, he probably didn’t deserve to feel jealous of this other parent parenting his child. He clearly hadn’t managed it up until now.

“You… we’re good?” Larry said, stupidly, because what else could he say.

Connor looked at Heidi and she nodded. “Yep, all set.”

The three of them got back into the car.

* * *

 

He’d always been clueless with Connor.

“Cyn, you can’t just leave me here with him all week! I have work to do!”

Cynthia, however, frowned. She didn’t bend, she didn’t buckle. “Larry, Zoe and I haven’t

had the chicken pox. Zoe hasn’t had her booster shot yet! Do you want to be stuck taking care of all of us?” She raised her eyebrows in challenge. “I’m staying at my mother’s until he’s not contagious. You can work from home. Just… he’s _five_ , Larry, it’s not brain surgery. He’ll probably sleep most of the time. Just keep him from scratching the blisters. It’ll be fine.”

Larry honestly thought he would fair better with brain surgery.

He and his five year old son… struggled. Connor clung to Cynthia, a total mama’s boy, which was fine. Zoe was a total daddy’s girl. It evened out. Larry knew they’d both grow out of it eventually. But Cynthia coddled him. The last time Larry recalled successfully spending time with Connor without him running off to Cynthia was during… potty training. Which was a weird experience in and of itself. Something about showing your kid _how_ to pee was surreal in a way Larry had never imagined. It almost made him wish that they’d had two girls. At least then it was as simple as sitting down. Larry still couldn’t quite look Cheerios in the face at the breakfast table.

But still, as Cynthia drove off and Connor started crying that he wanted his mom, Larry sort of wished she had just stayed and resigned to getting everyone sick. It would have meant he could have gotten a little bit of work done.

He left a voicemail for his boss once he managed to knock Connor out with some cough syrup, explaining that his kid had chicken pox and that he’d probably have to work from home for most of the week. Not exactly ideal for a junior partner but what could he do? Nothing he said could convince Cynthia to stay, and when Larry had suggested halfheartedly that they send Connor to her mother’s house for a few days Larry thought she would murder him on the spot.

Larry was surprised to see that Connor was up and dressed the next morning by eight.

“What are you doing up?”

“Don’t I have school?” Connor said, looking at the dry erase calendar on the fridge. On Wednesdays CONNOR PRE-K was written out. He did three days per week at the local elementary school. Larry thought he was old enough to do five per week, but Cynthia had said she wanted to make sure to get some time in with him before he started kindergarten five days a week the next year, and Larry thought that it was probably her call. She spent the most time with the kids.

“Can you read that?” Larry asked, bewildered.

Connor nodded.

“Bud, you’re sick. You can’t go to school today.”

Connor frowned. “But it’s story day. We were supposed to finish _Bartholomew and the Oobleck._ ”

“I’m sure you can finish it some other time.”

Connor kept frowning. “Where’s mom?”

“She and Zoe are going to stay at Grandma’s until you’re feeling better so Zoe doesn’t get sick.”

“Why?”

“Because Zoe hasn’t had her booster shot yet, so she could get really really sick if she stayed here.”

Connor sighed. Itched at his chest.

“Connor, don’t scratch.”

“It’s itchy.”

Larry groaned, stepping away from the brief he was working on. “Come on. Upstairs, back in PJs.”

“I want to go to school.”

“You can’t, bud, you’ll get everyone sick.”

“Why aren’t you gonna get sick?”

“Because I’ve already had the chickenpox. Once you’ve had them you don’t get them again.”

“I want mom.”

“She’ll be back in a couple of days.”

“But…” Connor frowned. “Can I call her?”

“...Sure. Yeah. Let’s get something on those bumps and then you can call mom.”

Connor was miserable. He asked to call his mother five times a day. Larry couldn’t find a single thing that could keep him occupied. Movies and television couldn’t keep him distracted, and in a moment of desperation, Larry had taped oven mitts over Connor’s hands because no matter how many times he begged his son not to scratch, he kept doing it.

By the second day of their house arrest, Larry knew something wasn’t right because Connor seemed suddenly to want to spend time together. He’d follow Larry from room to room, he’d been talking nonstop (a rarity for Connor, who was a pretty quiet kid in general). And the real sign that something wasn’t right was that after they pair of them ate lunch, Connor rested his head against his dad’s shoulder.

The moment he was asleep, Larry untangled himself, covered Connor in a blanket, and called Cynthia in a panic. “Something’s wrong.”

“What is it?” Cynthia sounded stressed. Worried. Panicked.

“It’s Connor, he’s… not acting like himself. I’m worried.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s been talking nonstop and he just fell asleep on me…” Larry said, still panicking. “Should I take him to the hospital?”

Cynthia, however, sighed. “He’s sick, Larry. He probably just wants somebody to take care of him.”

“But he never does this with me!”

“How’s his temperature?”

Larry told her; it was a low grade fever.

“And is he complaining about headaches? Coughing a lot?”

Larry sighed and told her no.

“He’s five, Larry. Let him hang on you a little. He’s probably miserable.”

“Okay…” Larry looked warily at the sofa where Connor as sleeping.

“I’ll call to check in later.” She hung up without another word.

Larry looked back at Connor, asleep but frowning on the couch. He sighed, retaking his seat, settling Connor so that his head was on Larry’s lap. He brushed some hair out of Connor’s eyes, petting it absently as he turned on ESPN, keeping the volume muted. He knew Connor woke up maybe an hour later, but he didn’t move away.

“How are you feeling, bud?” Larry asked him after a while.

“Bored. Tired. Itchy,” Connor said, yawning. “Could we watch a movie?” He gave Larry a crooked smile. 

Larry nodded, getting up and letting Connor pick out a movie. “Do you want some water?”

Connor nodded sleepily, pulling the blanket over himself.

He was out again by the time Larry returned with a glass of water. He ended up watching the whole of The Lion King, sitting there with his kid passed out on his lap.

* * *

They dropped Heidi off that night, and she thanked them again, hugged Connor and told him to text her if he needed anything at all, and walked back to the house.

Connor didn’t climb back into the front seat. He stayed back, looking at his phone, looking… just miserable.

That night, Larry tried to talk to Cynthia about it. “He seems… not good. He started crying. I don’t think I’ve seen him cry in… Years.”

Cynthia frowned. “I think he’s just sad, Larry. His boyfriend just moved away.”

Larry frowned. “I think he might have have… some kind of fit? As we were leaving.”

Cynthia looked concerned. “What happened?”

“He just started, like, crying really hard… and breathing really hard.”

Cynthia put a hand to her lips. “He had an anxiety attack? He hasn’t had any in… since middle school.”

Larry sighed. “Heidi… She seemed to know what to do.”

Cynthia’s frown seemed to get deeper. “Well. Evan does have an anxiety disorder, so…”

Larry nodded, stiffly. “She… I didn’t know what to do.”

Cynthia sighed. “Well. What did you do?”

“I mostly just… stood there.”

Cynthia rolled her eyes. “This is exactly why he doesn’t talk to you. You treat him like these things are something to be gawked at.”

“I just don’t understand. I get that he’s upset, but… it’s a little bit much, isn’t it?”

Cynthia sighed. “Can you really say that? Or have you forgotten about crying at the airport as I left for my summer abroad before senior year?”

Larry sighed. “I…”

“Nevermind Larry. If you need someone to explain it…” She stalked off. Probably to go sleep in the spare room again. Larry was starting to think they should just give up the pretense of sleeping in the same bed.

Larry remembered. Vividly.

Cynthia was a year behind him in school, and she was spending the summer between her junior and senior year of college in Paris.

Larry, meanwhile, had an internship back home to prep for law school.

They weren’t serious. Not then.

Larry wanted to be, but Cynthia was in her wild child phase. She listened to a lot of grunge, smoked clove cigarettes, bleached her strawberry blond hair until it was white.

Larry was smitten. He was head over heels.

Cynthia was more serious in general, but less serious about him. She was studying elementary education and French (thus, Paris). She wanted to teach in impoverished school districts. She volunteered three nights a week tutoring kids. She was heading up the campus women’s resource center as a junior. She and Larry met when she was giving a workshop on date rape at his frat house. Some new rule that the Greek system had established after a few too many out of hand keggers.

All Larry could focus on was the floral dress she wore. The black tights, the high ponytail. The slow, knowing smile she wore. He went up to her after the workshop, smiling, saying something about how her point on gendered language had really made him think.

“Thank you,” She said, smiling. She had a killer smile.

They exchanged numbers. Started going out about a month later. Even more dazzling up close.

Cynthia’s feminist friends thought she was so lame for going out with a frat boy. She always said that he was enlightened. Larry didn’t know about that, but he liked to hear it.

By the time she was getting ready for Paris, Larry was a goner. Completely in love.

So he told her. Cheesy as hell, over a dinner of baguettes and brie cheap wine.

And she had laughed and said she’d miss him. But he wanted more. “What about all of the French boys?”

And Cynthia had laughed. “I’d imagine they’d think it very American of me to leave a guy waiting for me at home.”

“But I want to. I love you.”

And Cynthia smiled. Kissed him.

So at the airport, he carried her bag and walked her right to her gate. Back when you still could. It was nineties. And as he kissed her goodbye, he couldn’t help it. He teared up. He said he loved her again. He asked her to please write, please call, please come back.

So she did. They talked once a week, Larry accepting the long distance charges easily. They wrote too. Emails and letters and postcards, always signed “Wish you were here.”

Larry learned a lot about her when she was across the world.

When she landed three months later, the first thing she said was, “I love you too. I didn’t want to say it with an ocean between us.”

Of course Cynthia was right.

She usually was.

He knew he should find her, apologize. Do the same to Connor, who was just a lovesick kid unsure of what he was doing…

But it was late.

Larry doubted he’d be able to sleep, so he went into his office. But his focus was hardly on his brief. So he went into the drawer he kept locked…

Contraband drawer. Emergency cigarettes and a flask.

He took these items out and went into the backyard, planning to have a smoke and a drink, wait it out, sort things out tomorrow.

Naturally he found Connor out there, having a conversation on the phone, smoking a cigarette. “No. Lon. Listen. It was a fucking disaster,” he was saying. “I totally freaked out. Complete meltdown. Like I had a panic attack. _In front of_ Fucking Larry.”

There was a pause. Larry imagined that whoever Connor was speaking to was talking. Lon. Whoever that was.

“No, that’s just the thing… Heidi was there.”

Another pause.

“I know, right? She’s the greatest. Naturally she just mommed the crap out of me until I got it together. Which was… nice.”

Another pause.

“I know. Please stop saying mother-in-law, you’re giving me hives...Well anyway…” Connor looked up then, catching sight of Larry. “Shit. Look I’m sorry I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later, Alana. Bye…”

Another sigh.

Connor was talking to Zoe’s girlfriend?

“Yeah, okay, yes, _love you too_ Lonnie. Jesus. Okay. Bye.” Connor turned, head down. “Sorry,” he mumbled, tossing his cigarette to the ground.

“You’re alright…” Larry said.

Connor just sort of stood there, like he wasn’t sure whether it was better to run back inside or stake a claim to the backyard as his territory.

And Larry pulled the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, taking one out and lighting it.

Connor stared.

“Come on, you’re not too cool to indulge in a vice with your old man are you?”

Connor shook his head, his expression looking completely befuddled. Larry held out his pack to his son. Knowing he shouldn’t encourage him, but he figured cigarettes were less harmful than all the Oxy Connor had been snorting a few years back. Connor carefully pulled a cigarette from Larry’s pack, and lit it with a white bic lighter.

“Ugh, menthol?”

“Shut up.”

“You… um. I didn’t realize you still smoked,” Connor said, quietly. “I thought you quit when Zoe started complaining.”

“I did,” Larry said. “But sometimes I let myself have one or two.”

Connor nodded.

“You really ought to quit,” Larry said. Connor’s eyebrows lifted, irritated or surprised. “I know, I know, you’re eighteen. No big lecture coming. Just. Think about it.”

Connor look a long drag. “Sure.”

“Is Evan getting all settled in his room?”

Connor nodded.

“Evan’s… Evan’s a good kid. I’m sure he’ll do well in college.”

“Um. Yeah. I guess.”

“I didn’t get a chance to meet his roommate. Did you?”

Connor nodded. “Yeah. He seems… alright.”

Larry nodded.

“And you’re… doing alright?”

Connor sighed, but nodded. “Yeah.” He paused. Took another drag. “Thanks.”

Larry nodded vaguely.

“We uh… you and I haven’t spent the day together in a long time. It was. Nice.”

Connor inhaled too sharply and let out a cough. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Do you remember when you were really little? And you had the chickenpox?”

Connor was watching him warily. “I mean. Kind of. I was like five.”

“Yeah. I dunno. You were pretty miserable. I think you and I watched _The Lion King_ about ten times, because you kept falling asleep before your favorite parts.”

Connor nodded.

“I um… I know it wasn’t really a great time, but I sort of. Liked getting you to myself that week.”

“...Okay?” Connor said.

“I just. I mean. I’m glad we got to spend time together today. I’m… um. I’m happy you let me come along.”

“Yeah, I mean…. You had the truck.”

“I know. But. Still.” Larry sighed, exhaling. “I’m just glad.”

“Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Fall Out Boy's "The Kids Aren't Alright."


End file.
